


This Is My Birthday

by curry-murderererer (QueenVulture0)



Series: The Maria Chronicles [1]
Category: Bottom (UK)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Birthday Presents, Homelessness, M/M, Teenagers, Trans Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:15:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25132237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenVulture0/pseuds/curry-murderererer
Summary: Richie's just ran away from home with his only friend Eddie, and he's turning 16. It's up to Eddie to give him the best damn birthday he'll ever get.
Relationships: Edward "Eddie" Elizabeth Hitler/Richard "Richie" Richard
Series: The Maria Chronicles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837336
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	This Is My Birthday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Starryeyedrichie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starryeyedrichie/gifts).



> Hi this is a gift for @starryeyedrichie because I want to be nice uwu best fren

They were both 15. Well, Eddie was 15, Richie was just a day away from turning 16 now. But there was gonna be no Sweet 16 for him. No birthday bash, no huge gifts, no car with a ribbon on it. He didn’t even want any of that anyway. All he wanted was respect, and Eddie was the only one to give that to him. In a unique form that people would confuse with bullying, but Richie understood. 

Eddie creaked open the door. He was always careful. The room he shared with Richie was part of an abandoned factory, an office space that hadn’t been used in such a long time. Things were dusty, broken, bound to fall over their heads, but they had no other options. They ran away together a few weeks previous, and things had been going just fine so far. They’d prepared, brought their own sleeping bags, and a fair amount of cash that would allow them to scrape by with water and canned foods from the nearby shop. Each week they slipped in, got their stuff, left the money on the counter, and slipped out without anyone ever noticing they were one of the missing children. Assuming Richie would ever get a poster. 

Once Eddie shut the door, he noticed Richie crying on his sleeping bag, clutching a piece of paper. The young blonde walked over and sat down beside him. “What is it, Richie?”

Richie looked up at him, tears streaming down his face, his long hair a rat’s nest. “Look!” he shouted, waving the paper at him in hysterics. “ _Young girl, Maria Pratt, bring_ her _home for_ her _16th birthday._ _No picture provided_! They don’t even have a bloody picture of me!” He blew up with wrecked sobs, and Eddie embraced him immediately. He hated to hear his sweet voice tainted with such pain. 

“On the bright side,” Eddie commented with a softened voice, “they’re less likely to find you. They can never hurt you again…” By now Richie had healed nearly every spot, but when they first arrived in their new home, he was covered in bruises. Eddie tried his best to be comforting, but he hardly ever had to do this. Richie was always so strong. He ran his fingers through his hair. It was long, past his shoulders, but all the waves had been greased down and knotted up over time. There was no running water after all, and they’d rather spend their limited funds on food than special shampoos and body washes. Just a bit of soap for their hands. 

Richie shook his head, pulling away. “I don’t like that.” He sniffed. “I don’t like my hair… I want hair like yours.” He ran his trembling fingers through Eddie’s hair once. Now somehow that was soothing. It hadn’t noticeably grown over the few weeks, but even with grease, it was still soft and his natural sun-bleached blonde. Short, too, a real boy’s cut. Richie envied that. He was never allowed short hair, and this was years on before he came out to his parents. They trimmed his hair maybe a few centimeters every month or so, and made him take good care of it. He hated it. 

“Listen, Rich, it’s nice outside today. How about we go for a swim at the creek? You can wear my black shirt.” Eddie offered, knowing how bad Richie’s body dysphoria got. The black shirt always made him a bit more androgynous. It wasn’t form-fitting, and it wasn’t see-through when wet. 

Richie couldn’t help but smile. Even through a reduced flow of tears. He nodded and whispered a weak, “thank you.”

Eddie said nothing back. He took the missing person paper from Richie’s hands and tore it to shreds. Richie chuckled. That turned his sad tears to happy tears, and he threw his arms around his best friend; his only friend. 

* * *

The next morning, Eddie made a quick trip to the shop once again. Today was the day Richie turned 16. As little as Richie expected, Eddie needed to make this day very special. He’d been scrimping on food for himself this whole time, that way he’d have enough for today. 

He walked past the pharmacy first. I thought hit him after he passed the door, and he backtracked. No one had sat down at the counter yet. The shop keeper was a tired bum who never cared about anything, and there were hardly any customers in yet. No one would know. 

He slipped in the side door, which wasn’t even locked! There was only a latch on the other side he had to undo, and there he was. He tiptoed around, rifling through people’s prescriptions, hoping by a stroke of luck he’d find it. He went down the alphabet, A, B, C….

And there it was under G. Griffin, testosterone injections. He slipped that right into his pocket and found his way back out of the little area without leaving a trace. 

The next stop was the bakery, just down the way. He walked up, eyeing the array of cakes. Richie hated chocolate cake. Every year his parents would get a marble cake to “appease everyone” but Richie always poked around at it and gave his chocolate bits to Eddie. 

Eddie looked at the woman behind the cake shelf. “Erm,” he cleared his throat, “could you write something onto that yellow cake, please?” He pointed out a small one, something they could eat in a few days without it going bad. 

“Sure, what would that be?” 

“ _ Happy birthday, Richard _ . In blue, please.” 

The woman running the bakery grabbed the cake from her side. “Is this for your father’s birthday?” She asked. 

“Sure,” Eddie replied awkwardly, waiting for her to write it on. He peered over the shelf every so often, watching her write it in a lovely cursive. Once she was done, she recovered it and handed it to him. “Thanks,” he spit out, then scurried off to get the last few things. Scissors, detangling spray, a comb, and a gallon of water. 

He brought it all to the counter, all ready to pay. It wasn’t a lot in the end, but it put quite a dent in his personal budget. It didn’t matter. Richie was getting a Sweet 16. Everything else was a future matter. 

Once everything was all paid for, he slipped back out with the gallon in one hand, and everything else in a bag. He went back to their home, being extra careful with the door today so he wouldn’t wake up Richie. 

He set everything up, filling this tub they’d found yesterday with the gallon of water. He unpackaged the scissors, unwrapped the spray, and sat those along with the comb by the tub. Then he held the cake, and brought it with him to Richie’s sleeping bag, ready to wake him. 

“Richie,” he said gently, different from his usual shouting and waking Richie in fear as a joke. “Richie,” he said again, just a bit louder. 

Richie unsuspectingly opened his eyes, already not excited for today. But when he saw the cake in front of him, being held by a grinning Eddie, he lost it. 

“Happy 16th birthday!”

Richie sat up swiftly, tears streaming down his face as he grabbed the cake to look closer.  _ Happy Birthday Richard. _ It really said that... Richard. “Eddie...I never thought-- not in a million years. My name!” 

“No chocolate included.” Eddie grinned even wider. “And that’s not all. I’ve got everything I need to cut your hair. Whatever style you’d like.”

Richie looked over at the supplies by the tub which Eddie had pointed out. He looked back at him, trying to process everything. He got a cake with his name on it, Eddie was going to cut his hair. His parents could have given him the world today and it wouldn’t have been as special as this. 

Eddie sat down next to Richie, preparing to give him his last gift. “I’ve..got one last thing for you. If you aren’t ready for it, I can take it back!” He spoke quickly, nervous about this one. 

Richie looked Eddie in the eye. “What is it?” He was skeptical. After all this, what could he have gotten that make him so nervous?

Eddie slipped the prescription out of his pocket, handing it over to Richie cautiously. “I found T. I’m not sure how yet, but if you start today, I could find you some each month.”

Richie’s jaw dropped. He held the bag in his hand, staring at it. “Are you serious? Is this real?” He just couldn’t believe it. “Eddie…”

“All yours, dreamboat. You’re Richard Pratt now, and you always have been.”

“I don’t like sharing the family name. Richard….Richard…” Richie thought. Now how was he supposed to come up with some last name on the spot?

“Richard Richard!” Eddie exclaimed.

Richie smirked. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s got a ring to it. Richard Richard!” 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if you found any typos or grammar errors, I was only able to push out the first draft. I'll revise in another time. It was also missing 2 scenes, so I'll write those as a part 2 possibly O.O


End file.
